Second Best
by PinkBubblegumBliss
Summary: Ron Weasley was always second best to the Chosen One. To everyone, really. Everyone except for one person... Ron/Hermione, lots of fluff


_I changed some aspects of the original book hang up for the sake of this, but it's just meant to be a very short and sweet comfort fic on Hermione's part when Ron and Harry are fighting in Goblet of Fire. Enjoy xx_

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><p>Disengaging herself from her book, Hermione Granger sighed almost imperceptibly. Harry and Ron still weren't speaking to each other. Honestly, she'd never been more angry with Harry, if she had to choose between the two—he really could've been more understanding to Ron's position—and it really only dawned on her after she'd been sitting with Ron on his bed, late one night when she knew Harry would be speaking with Sirius, only to have him return to the four-poster looking disgruntled and perturbed.<p>

"Still nothing?" she asked, voice barely the breath of a whisper, and Ron offered an unpleasant scowl as an answer. Hermione sat the book she'd been reading aside, watching Ron close the curtains around them, and he sighed in what could've been irritation or exhaustion. "Ronald..."

"Don't even start, 'Mione. I know it's stupid. I know I should be happy for my best friend. I know I'm being a git. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's stupid best friend, right? Not even the brightest witch of our age," he snapped, voice low and angry, and she knew it wasn't an intentional stab at her.

But Hermione felt a pang of guilt in knowing the exact science of why he felt this way, but reaching in the semidarkness, she found what she'd been looking for—one of his hands to clasp in her own. Offering a soothing smile, she released his hand and instead pulled him into a gentle hug. "Harry who?"

At this, his arms slipped around her, and she knew he had needed the statement she happily provided. "You're not a git, you just want a shot at what he constantly has. I know it's difficult, Ron, but you need to support him as much as I do..." she trailed off and bit her lip as his arms quickly drew away from her again.

"'Mione, if you're just here to say you prefer being friends with Harry over me..."

"Ronald! If that's what I was saying, I would've said it!" she hissed, reaching for arms she knew he'd crossed over his chest. "What I'm saying is... you're the youngest boy in your family. You're the penultimate child. You wear hand-me-downs, and I doubt your books have a single page in them that isn't nicked or scored somehow. Your pajamas are too small, and yes, you deserve a bit of what he's getting right now, but..." she trailed off and frowned as his arms tightened further, unwilling to come from across his chest.

"Right. Thank you again, Hermione, for reminding me of all of the reasons I'm not good enough for anyone. That sure did cheer me up," he grunted, rolling his eyes at her. "Really, that was wicked, I'm glad you got the point acro—"

"You're not a git, but maybe a bit thick at times... Ron, you're all of those things, but you're also supportive, interesting... if I understood half of the things you say sometimes, considering it's all sports and other...things, then I think conversation would be much more interesting than it is at times..." she trailed off, still trying to think of the right words. "What I'm saying... you're not second best. Not to me, at least."

There was a silence where only the breathing of the slumbering fourth year Gryffindor boys could be heard as Ron mulled her words over and Hermione reached for him half-heartedly. After a moment where she certainly thought he would tell her to leave, it was his turn to draw her into a close embrace and hold her against him. Hermione smiled, only slightly, and clutched the tight night shirt that he wore—it felt nice to have her best friend at least on the right track, thought-process wise, and she no longer felt guilty for the burden she carried before.

"Goodnight, Ronald," she said, pressing a good-natured kiss to his forehead. His ears reddened visibly, but he nodded and muttered a goodnight to her. Feeling the shift of weight on his bed and the sudden loss of light on his bed, he easily assumed that Hermione was out of the room and had taken her wand with her. But he smiled slightly and settled under his blankets, relaxed and glad that he wasn't second best. And Hermione was definitely someone he wanted to be worth something to.

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><p>Thoughts? Comments?<br>Besos y abrazos~  
>-PinkBubblegumBliss xx<p> 


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